


if you never bleed, you're never gonna know

by KtheG



Series: Two Celestial's and a Human [8]
Category: Warrior Nun (TV)
Genre: Ava fought in ww1, F/F, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-OT3, Shell Shock, but ofc they didn't know it was ptsd, established fallenhalo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:40:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26521552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KtheG/pseuds/KtheG
Summary: Beatrice moves from London to establish a connection with the De La Cruz mob in America.
Relationships: Sister Beatrice/Sister Lilith/Ava Silva
Series: Two Celestial's and a Human [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872385
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	if you never bleed, you're never gonna know

**Author's Note:**

> title is from T Swift's "the 1"  
> also this ot3 is my OG and they have my heart.

Chicago was a long way from home for Beatrice, but she made do. Business was booming over in London, so her parents had sent her off to build on their American connections and solidify the most profitable relationship to date. Needless to say, being in America was exactly what her parents wanted; she was out of the public eye and was free to be herself without sullying their very prestigious name. She called on a few of her contacts and found herself sitting face to face with the woman they called Lilith, the woman who was running the biggest syndicate this side of the Mississippi.

Beatrice had to admit, the other woman was gorgeous, her cheekbones alone could probably cut glass, but the way she looked in her finely tailored suit? Beatrice felt the tips of her ears blush, hoping that the darkness of the restaurant would hide her blush. It wouldn't serve her well to give the boss any sign of weakness. The meeting was hard to follow on account of Lilith cutting a spectacular image as the sun set and the candles came on in full glow at their table. Beatrice took another swig of her whiskey (she preferred the scotch of her home town, but this was said to be the finest to come out of Tennessee) and tuned back into the conversation to discuss shipping from England and the prices they would have to pay.

"With the current administration, we have to pay quite a lot at border patrol to get us through, so what is it that's so special about this scotch to make it worth it?" Lilith's tone was completely neutral, giving nothing away, as if she had grown up around politicians like Beatrice did.

"It's the finest scotch to ever come out of the Isles, and we have a connection with the German beer industry. We can get you all you need, we just ask for a small cut in the profits. Win/win."

Lilith hummed, seemed to consider the offer, and was interrupted by the back door opening and a small woman walking out.

The newcomer wore a pair of highwaisted trousers and suspenders, but her blouse was distinctly feminine, following the cut of her fine body. Beatrice took another drink to force herself to look away (it wouldn't do to have a crush on one woman, let alone two.)

"Whatch'ya getting to up here, darling?" The woman's voice was oddly smooth, hints of a western accent peeking into the words, but they put a small smile on Lilith's face (Beatrice could only tell from the upturn around her eyes, otherwise, the mobsters face remained completely blank.)

"Just closing a deal, dear wife," (oh shite. Lilith was married?) "I'll be down in a minute." Beatrice was even more screwed. Having feelings for a client would complicate things way too much, and so she vowed then and there to be strictly business. She tried to find hints of a wedding band on Lilith's finger, but there was nothing there, not even a tan line. But as she turned back around to face Lilith, she saw the glimmer of a chain around her neck.

"We'd be delighted to do business with you, Ms. Silva. I'll get Camila to drive you to your hotel for this evening?" Beatrice could only nod in response, too caught up in her head to really consider anything else.

The drive back to her hotel was silent, the only sound being the rumble of the Ford engine under their feet. Beatrice wasn't used to this kind of car, accustomed to the fancier Mercedes her parents where chauffeured around in. The drive was quick, given the lightness of traffic on the downtown streets, and that was another thing Beatrice would have to get used to. London streets were a mess at the best of times, at the worst, filled with pedestrians and bikers, pan-handlers and war vets. America didn't wear the signs of war like England did, and that was a breath of fresh air for Beatrice. England was depressing, and she was grateful to be out of it.

She made it to her hotel and up to her room without having to interact with anybody, and she quickly set about turning down the sheets and running a hot shower, suddenly exhausted from the stress of meeting with the top mobster in the country. (The feds had stopped trying to arrest Lilith Gabriela Lucia Reyes Ipos De La Cruz once they discovered the truth behind her operation.) But that didn't mean Beatrice wasn't her own brand of intimidating. she had the English pretentiousness down pat (being the daughter of conservative politicians will do that) and she could read people like nobody's business. She had known the deal with the Cruz gang would go through purely based on the fact that Lilith asked about their imports. A woman like her never asks questions she doesn't already have an answer for, and that is usually a good sign; it means they're looking for what you're offering.

So Beatrice climbed out of the shower after thinking these thoughts and now was left to contend with her small (very big) problem. Her parents had refused to acknowledge her outside of a professional capacity the minute word got back to them about the night she had spent in the Anarchist part of town, spending her night with pretty women and punk rock music. But she was the best at her job, and they knew it would be impossible to replace her, especially given the emphasis on family when running the family business these days (really the only reason Beatrice was grateful to be an only child.)

Her sleep was plagued by the silhouettes of two beautiful women wrapped around each other, with Beatrice looking on from the sidelines. At one point, they welcomed her into their arms, and for the first time, Beatrice felt the warmth of love. Waking was a disappointment, but the feelings lingered, and she went about her life. She didn't see Lilith or her wife very often, working in different parts of the same business, but she saw them in her dreams almost every night.

When she finally did run into Lilith and her wife again, a few months had passed, and they were meeting to go over smuggling plans for this next shipment of goods given the change in border patrol. Lilith finally gave a formal introduction, and Beatrice met Ava.

"Funny that we share a last name Ms. Silva. That's not a familial name common to England." Ava had said, keeping Beatrice's hand held firm in her grip.

"And how would you presume to know what a common English surname is?" Beatrice couldn't help but dig a little bit more, trying to find out about this mysterious woman who had plagued her dreams.

"War carry's us to strange lands in this world, Beatrice. I'm sure you don't need the reminder." So Ava was a war veteran. That would explain the cane and the way Lilith never strayed far from her wife when they were in the same room together, often with one arm around Ava's waist.

Beatrice could only nod, content to forget that part of her past a little while longer. But alas, it would not stay away forever, and the next night, her dreams were less pleasant. Instead of Beatrice finding herself in Lilith and Ava's embrace, Beatrice saw herself cradling Ava in her lap, blood flowing from numerous shrapnel wounds and she could hear Lilith screaming behind her. It made no sense, but nonetheless, Beatrice woke in sweat soaked pajamas, heart pounding and ears sensitive to the ticking of the clock on her bedside table (she had moved into her own home a few weeks ago and had quickly purchased two clocks, one holding Central Time and the other Greenwich Mean Time.)

To say she was on alert for the next few days would be an understatement. She jumped at the smallest sounds, and when a car backfired, she fell to the floor on instinct (embarrassing, the other reason her parents had sent her away.)

But her instincts were correct, and soon enough, she found herself holding a pistol, one arm holding Lilith back, the other aiming at a rival mobster across the street. Ava was caught in the middle, one hand gripping her cane for dear life, the other trying to stem the bleeding on a wound caught from a stray bullet. Beatrice put her few skills to good use, handed Lilith the gun (who promptly shot the opposing mobster) and ran out towards Ava, always headed to danger and not away from it.

The images in front of her flicker; sometimes she's in the present, tying a tourniquet around Ava's leg, and then a second later, Ava's face morphs into one of the faceless men she had treated for four long years in an Army camp in the middle of France. (Knowing that Ava was over there only serves to make it harder for Beatrice to separate the images in her brain. Sometimes, the Ava in her arms is dressed in olive green, other times she's wearing her usual outfit of trousers and suspenders.)

Lilith has come up beside them and is shouting at Beatrice to "do something, Goddamnit. I can't lose her again." and that somehow spurs Beatrice into action. Together, they scoop Ava up and get her into the car, speeding off to the restaurant that acts as their headquarters. Beatrice rushes into the kitchen, clears off one of the steel tables, and directs Lilith to set Ava down. She's quick about cutting away Ava's trouser leg and what she sees would horrify any normal woman.

Ava's leg is a mess of scar tissue that winds from her ankle up to her hip and disappears behind her back. The fresh bullet wound will hardly stand out compared to the shrapnel scars, and Beatrice can't help but wonder how a woman found her way onto the front lines enough to sustain an injury this severe. She puts the thought out of her mind, focusing on the task at hand, running her hands under alcohol to sterilize them before sticking her fingers into Ava's leg looking for the bullet.

Above her, Ava moans, but Lilith is there, reassuring her wife, holding her hand, talking sweet nothings, and Beatrice longs to be in either position (probably not Ava's, but she wouldn't mind hearing Lilith's slightly accented voice in her ear.) When she finds the bullet and digs it out, she looks up to Ava to see the two women looking at her. All she can do is ask for some thread and a needle, which Lilith seems to pull out of nowhere (the woman doesn't carry any sort of purse, but Beatrice supposes her suits have enough pockets to make a purse redundant) and Beatrice sets to sewing Ava closed.

She focuses so hard on making neat stitches that she almost misses the moment Lilith and Ava stop talking. When she's done, she finally looks up at them, and the look of admiration on Ava's face is almost enough to make her want to break her vow of professionalism right then and there.

"You should keep off your leg for a few days, make sure to clean the wound –“

"We know, Beatrice. We've done this a time or two. But that's not what you want to hear." Ava's smirk is back in full force despite the exhausted look on her face. Lilith has a death grip around one of Ava's hands, but the other comes to rest on Beatrice's shoulder, giving a light squeeze.

"Ava and I have been... talking, recently, and we have a question for you. It might seem unorthodox, but we are hardly following any rules as is –“

"Babe, just ask her already, or I will die, I swear on my mother's life."

Lilith just lets out a huff at being interrupted and turns to look Beatrice in the eyes.

"Would you be willing to let us love you?"

Beatrice feels like she can't breathe. This is what she's wanted, all she's really longed for for months now, and now that the question is spoken? It's a real possibility? Beatrice doesn't know what to do. Her hands are shaking (they're still coated with Ava's blood. And sticky. Bloody and sticky and her mind is no longer in the kitchen of the small Italian restaurant) but there's a hand on her chin, pulling her eyes away from her hands and into the endless depths of soft brown eyes. Lilith isn't saying anything, is just acting as an anchor, and Beatrice knows she's been loved by them since the moment she first met them. This look, she's seen it before, but only ever directed at her and Ava, and Beatrice wants to see it more, to look at Lilith and Ava with love.

So she nods. It's all her body is capable of at the moment, but she nods. And then a second later, she's leaping at Lilith, pressing her lips to the taller woman's, reaching up on her tiptoes to fully engulf the mobster. Ava lets out a yawn from her left, and Beatrice jumps back as if shocked, suddenly remembering that Lilith and Ava are _married_ and she's just a business partner.

"Don't stop on my account, I was just wondering if I could get in on the action too?"

Lilith shoots her a look and then looks back at Beatrice, a question in her eyes, and Beatrice smiles before walking over to Ava and pulling the smaller woman into a sitting position, resting Ava's hands on her hips and softly kissing her. Lilith's hand is on her back, and Beatrice knows in that moment that her vow is shot to hell. She breaks her kiss with Ava and wraps one hand around Lilith's arm, the other resting on Ava's shoulder.

"I feel like I already love you two, and I don't even know what love is." The words are quiet but honest, and for the first time, Ava doesn't make a smartass comment that has them rolling their eyes. She reaches out for Lilith's free hand, completes the circle of them, and says,

"Of course you know what love is. You have us."


End file.
